Beside the Sea
by Naisa
Summary: "Sherlock, I am taking you to the beach. I don't care how cynical or negative you are about it, we are going to the seaside and you're going to have fun!" After spending weeks sitting around in 221B Baker Street, John finally drags Sherlock out to the beach for the day, with some unexpected consequences...One shot, no slash, some Irene/Sherlock.


_Randomly came up with this idea to celebrate the return of the British summer! And now it appears to have gone again, lol! _

_The beach in this fic is an actual beach and I wanted to use it as it's a sandy one and I was on that beach when I came up for this idea. For some reason I could just see Sherlock running up and down the sad..._

_The story is set between episode 1 and 2 of series 2 and has some spoilers for episode 1 and there is slight Sherlock/Irene. Hope you enjoy! :)_

* * *

Beside the Sea

"That's it Sherlock, you have to get out this house!"

The great detective looked up at John, his face blank, as if he didn't quite understand what the word 'outside' meant. "What for?"

"Because you haven't left this house for three weeks!" Said John.

"Not my fault Lestrade hasn't come to me with a decent crime for three weeks," the grumpy Sherlock mumbled.

"Yes I know, but you just stay in the house all the time playing the violin and trying to sneak cigarettes and bullets into the house. Sometimes you sit in that chair and don't move for hours, you're starting to look like it!"

Sherlock Holmes looked down at the chair he was currently curled up in. "Excellent observation John, apart from the chair thing, I look nothing like it."

John sighed, and his voice was a little more sympathetic. "And I know you're still missing her."

"Missing who?"

The sympathy disappeared. "Very funny Sherlock," John snapped, "you know perfectly well who I mean, Irene Adler!"

"Oh her," Sherlock mumbled, "I'd completely forgotten about her."

John sometimes wondered why he bothered trying, but Sherlock _was_ starting to look like he was blending in with the chair and as much as he denied it, he was still thinking about Irene Adler, and he wouldn't stop thinking about her if he just sat in the house all day.

John glanced out the window, the sun blazed down on 221B Baker Street, the first glimpse of sun and warmth they had had for weeks. He could see people walking down the street, making the best of the weather to go outside, while Sherlock was stuck inside doing nothing, and he could continue doing nothing for the next three weeks unless John thought of something.

"Why can't you just go out and enjoy the sun Sherlock?" He asked hopelessly.

"I don't need the sun," Sherlock replied curtly, "I'm not cold-blooded and I don't need to photosynthesise."

"You sure about the cold-blooded bit?" John muttered under his breath.

This comment didn't seem to impress Sherlock, he glared up at his friend. "If you're so desperate about going outside, what do _you_ suggest we do then?"

John shrugged, he tried to think of what he did in the summer holidays as a young boy when the sun had come out. An idea came to him. "Why don't we go to the beach!"

There was a pause, Sherlock pulled a face as if he had just smelt the word 'beach' in the air, and it had started to go mouldy a few days ago. "Never been to the beach," he grumbled.

John stared at him as if Sherlock said in his whole life he had never tasted chocolate. "What? Never been to the beach! Not even when you were a child?"

Sherlock shrugged, "Never really lived close enough to a beach to go on weekends, and didn't go on one on holidays. Was just something my family never did. I don't fancy going now either, it's too...salty for me. I'd only go to the beach if a dead body washed up."

"But I used to love going to the beach!"

"And I bet you're still washing the sand out your hair," the detective grumbled.

When John thought about it, he supposed it wasn't really a surprise that Sherlock never went to the beach, it didn't seem like a Sherlock-y thing to do. But still, he wasn't going to give up, the fresh sea air would do the detective some good, he made up his mind.

"Sherlock, I am taking you to the beach. I don't care how cynical or negative you are about it, we are going to the seaside and you're going to have fun!"

* * *

It took just under two hours to get to Westgate, John knew he could probably find a closer beach, but he remembered going to the same beach when he was younger and enjoying himself, and John decided it wasn't often they went to the seaside, so why not? It was also a sandy beach and usually quite quiet Besides, it wouldn't be too hard finding someone willing to take them to Westgate, there were lots of people who owed Sherlock a favour.

Sherlock spent the first hour of the journey complaining, and then started sulking in silence for the second. John was glad for some peace and quiet, but he wondered if Sherlock was thinking about the woman he had lost earlier that year.

Finally they reached the beach, and Sherlock claimed he was quite happy sitting in the car while John got sand in his shoes, but John wouldn't have it and almost had to pull Sherlock out the car, who pulled a face.

"This is a rubbish beach," he commented.

"Sherlock, we're not _on_ the beach yet, we're on the road!" John pointed out.

Sherlock looked down at the road as if he had only just noticed, and opened his mouth to probably make a rude comment, but John grabbed his arm before he could say anything and dragged him down to the _actual _beach.

It was a peculiar sight, seeing the great detective on a beach, dressed up as he usually did in his smart, dark clothes, the only thing missing being his scarf. John had changed into a loose fitting shirt, shorts and sandals before they had left, Sherlock claimed he looked ridiculous, but John knew his friend knew just as much about fashion as he did about astronomy.

There were a few other people on the beach, mainly families with young children making the most of the warm sun before the stereotypical British weather returned. John walked over to a market stall by the beach and bought himself a cheap deck chair, which he set down into the sand.

"Just try to relax Sherlock," he said, as he settled down into his chair. "Think of this as an investigation - you're investigating why people like to be at the beach."

Sherlock pulled another face, which was quickly becoming one of his many talents. "But I don't like-" he began.

"Just enjoy yourself Sherlock!" John snapped, "oh, and if you see anyone being buried in the sand, it's not a murder." He added, as he put on a pair of sunglasses, and settled down into his chair with a satisfied sigh.

The detective glowered, but decided he couldn't be bothered to argue. He looked around the beach. People certainly looked like they were having fun, running back and forth from the sea, laughing and building sand castles. Even John looked like he was enjoying himself, even though he wasn't doing much. Sherlock couldn't help but feel curious and amused about why these people found the seaside so entertaining. He looked down at the sand at his feet and wondered what it actually felt like. He pulled off his shoes and socks and let them sink slowly into the surprisingly soft sand.

Sherlock grunted, pretending he didn't like the feeling of sand between his toes. But maybe this wasn't so bad after all...

* * *

Half an hour later, John was just drifting off to have a nap. Living with Sherlock made sleep surprisingly difficult, and it was so quiet, the sound of the sea made him feel relaxed and the warm air sleepy. Unfortunately, he didn't even get time to shut his eyes when he heard a cry.

"Ah, ah it's really cold!"

John looked up to see Sherlock, shoes and socks off, trousers rolled up to his knee, running as fast as he could away from the sea. He stared, "Sherlock, what are you doing?"

But Sherlock wasn't listening, for the first time in weeks there was a spark in his eyes and there was actually a smile on his face. He looked round to see a wave retreating off the beach. "Ha! It's running away!" He shouted, running back down to the sea, "ah, it's coming back again!" He cried when another wave rolled up the beach.

"Sherlock-"

"It's retreating again!"

"Sherlock what-"

"Oh no, it's coming back!"

"Sherlock! What are you doing?"

The detective finally noticed John and paused for a moment. "I'm raging a war against the sea John! It's so cowardly, but then it comes back again and it's so cold! Look, there it goes again!" And he dashed down the beach after the sea.

John stared at his friend who cried out with panic and excitement as another wave came up the beach. "Sherlock, are you on drugs?"

"Of course not! But I've never felt so alive! I'm making up time John, precious time of not chasing the sea when I was a child. Come and join me!"

"Err, no thanks I'll pass. I think I might go and get an ice cream, do you want anything?" John asked, but Sherlock wasn't listening, he was too busy chasing after the sea and still shouting about how cold it was. John decided to leave him to his own devices, and pretended he didn't know Sherlock (he was already getting plenty of stares).

When John returned holding an already melting ice cream, he sat down on his deck chair again and deciding to continue with the plan of 'I don't know that crazy man running up and down the beach' and didn't even look up at him when he sat down.

However, his plan didn't work. At all.

"John, there you are! John, John, Joohn! Look, I've built a sandcastle!"

John sighed, and turned his attention to Sherlock, "That's nice," he began, then, "what the...Sherlock how the hell did you do that!?"

It turned out when Sherlock said 'sandcastle' he really meant a castle. For the few minutes John had gone to get ice cream he had managed to build an eight foot high castle, complete with four towers, and was strong enough for Sherlock to stand on top of it and observe the beach. And it seemed his new creation had gone to his head a little...

"I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES! LORD OF ALL!" He cried out, "BOW DOWN TO ME, PEASANTS! John I don't see you bowing."

"And you're not going to." John said bluntly. "Now how did you manage to make that?"

Sherlock shrugged, "With a genius mind like mine I have my methods. I had plenty of sand around, which helped, and I hired some little workers to help, which reminds me, I need to borrow your wallet..."

"No you can't!" John snapped.

Sherlock shrugged again, "Never mind, I'll just pick-pocket you later, but in the meantime, I shall exercise my new found power. GET ME AN ICE-CREAM, PEASANT JOHN!"

"No."

"Oh," Sherlock paused, looking around, "well I can't really get down to make you, so I'll just have one later. But I shall now take this opportunity to observe your fellow peasants."

And so, much to John's embarrassment, Sherlock began analysing everyone who went near his sandcastle, and not in a subtle way.

"You there! Yes, the man with the gambling debts, do you know your wife's having an affair?"

"You, yes you! The overweight one! You do now someone stole your purse from your bag approximately half an hour ago? You should tell Lestrade!...Oh no that's not his division. "

"Hang on, you there, you're the one who stole the purse! Why are you now running?"

After a few minutes John gave up apologising, and chasing after pick-pockets. He decided to go back to his plan of ignoring Sherlock, especially when he started calling him a peasant. He wondered instead if he should write about this adventure in his blog, it would certainly annoy Sherlock that people knew what happened when he's realised at the seaside...

After another hour of this, Sherlock's tone of voice suddenly turned to a more panicked and desperate one.

"John, John help me!"

"Why?" John grumbled, he had just started dozing off again.

"I'm being attacked by the sea!"  
John looked up to see the tide was coming in, and Sherlock's castle was right in its way. The waves were only just licking the edges of the castle, but already the sand was beginning of crumble and the castle looked very unstable.

"The enemy is closing in!" Sherlock cried, the tide was coming in very fast. "You have to help defend my castle!"

John didn't move. "Sherlock, it's made out of sand, I really don't think there's anything we can do to save it."

Sherlock glowered, "Those aren't the determined words of a soldier, you've gone soft Watson! Fight to the death I say!"

But one side of the sandcastle were already crumbling and John didn't like to be insulted. "Sorry, I'm at the beach, it's my day off," he grumbled.

"No John, you can't just give up on me like that, I am Sherlock, LORD OF ALL! And I'm starting to lose ground!"

"Face it Sherlock, you can't win this battle."

"Then I will sink with my castle! Err, John it really is sinking now. John! One of the towers has succumbed, it's tumbled into the sea, it won't be able to hold me for much longer. JOHN!"

But the sea was relentless, and John was more worried about not getting his deck chair wet than to help Sherlock and his crumbling castle. Soon, there was nothing left at all that showed a sand castle had even stood there, apart from a very damp and grumpy Sherlock, who had quite literally sank with his castle, but fortunately he could swim.

John tried to hold back his laughter and give Sherlock some sympathy. "Ah well, never mind," he said sweetly, as Sherlock pulled seaweed out his hair.

"You can't be a Lord of All without a castle," Sherlock grumbled.

"How about I get you some ice cream now? That'll cheer you up," John suggested.

Sherlock didn't seem very impressed, and stated that nothing would cheer him up now, but still said he should have an ice cream all the same.

It was after Sherlock finished his third ice cream that John realised something. "Uh oh, we forgot to put sun cream on!"

The two stared at each other as if they expected the other to suddenly burst into flame.

"You don't look too bad," Sherlock commented.

"I'll be fine I tan," said John, "you're the one I'm worried about."

"Am I a bit pink?"  
"Sherlock, to be perfectly honest, you look like a beetroot."

Even Sherlock couldn't help smiling at this comment, and John laughed, but when Sherlock finished his ice cream he murmured, "Beetroots are usually purple."

After this a Sherlock the colour of various red fruits told John that perhaps it was time to go home, John agreed. The sea was now at high tide, and there was little else to do apart from eat more ice creams.

Just as they reached the car, both of them satisfied that they had a good day, though John had a lot more relaxing one as he hadn't built a whole castle and then saw it collapse, Sherlock's phone buzzed in his pocket.

Surprised that it had managed to survive being submerged in salt water, who pulled it out his pocket and found a text from an unknown number:

_I like a Knight with his own castle, hope your sword's just as big._

Sherlock stared at it, but before he could react his phone buzzed again:

_I know you've just had a lot of ice cream, but we should have dinner sometime._

Sherlock spun around, gazing at the road, the houses and the beach, his eyes wide. He thought he wouldn't have the chance to see her again, but all of a sudden she was there, so close...

John's voice drifted to his ears, sounding so far away. "Sherlock, we're ready to go now."

"No, we can't go!" Sherlock snapped, still spinning around in a circle, looking out for her.

"Why not?"  
"Irene Adler, she's here!"

John wondered if the sun had gone to Sherlock's head. He thought he knew the truth, that Irene couldn't be at the beach, because she was dead. But it was the consulting detective who had known what had really happened. Still he thought he would never have the chance to see her again, it was too dangerous and he knew too much about her, the last thing he had heard as that she was on the other side of the world. But now she was so close!

Yet so far.

"Come on Sherlock, I really think it's time we got home. You never know, while we've been at the beach there might have been a good, gruesome murder up in London!" Said John.

Sherlock sighed, but nodded. "Fine."

A few minutes later, the car pulled away from Westgate. Sherlock gazed keenly out the window, but of course he couldn't see a mysterious woman standing by the roadside, a mischievous smile on her face and phone in hand, she would never give herself away so easily. But at least he knew that she wasn't so far away, she had seen him, he just wished he had seen her, and that she hadn't seen him run up and down the beach after the sea...

But all the same, being beside the sea didn't seem like such a bad idea after all, and Sherlock even found himself suggesting that they went again soon, although for some reason John stated if Sherlock wanted to go to the beach, he should go on his own.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Again I hope you enjoyed and I hope that Sherlock wasn't too OOC, obviously it's not every episode we see him building a sandcastle..._

_Please review! :)_


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